


Quiet Touches

by nhasablog



Category: Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tickling, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 21:40:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13443963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nhasablog/pseuds/nhasablog
Summary: Bram is both quiet and bold in the things he does, but it turns out that it doesn’t matter how he touches Simon, because his hands manage to tickle him either way.





	Quiet Touches

**Author's Note:**

> I reread Simon VS The Homo Sapiens Agenda recently and had to write something for it. I hope you like it!
> 
> Warnings: Spoilers for the book (and movie), so don’t read unless you wanna get spoiled.

Bram was quiet in more than one way. Sure, he didn’t say much, which Simon was both pleased and a bit sad about, because while it was cute to know he made his boyfriend (boyfriend!) nervous enough to not know what to say, Simon was used to people who spoke a lot.

Though it did mean that he got to witness Bram shed wall after wall as time went by, and it felt good to get proof this obvious. Proof that Simon wasn’t the only one falling with no parachute in sight.

But he was quiet in other ways, too. Quiet in how he showed Simon affection. A peck here. A squeeze to his hand there. A compliment in between. While his emails had been bold as time had passed, it was as if he was back to square one again when it came to verbal confessions. But while Simon blurted out everything as soon as he thought of it, Bram waited at least a few moments, which, to be fair, wasn’t a lot. Maybe Simon was just getting impatient after so many months of letting this thing simmer.

And then there was the touching. It was part of how Bram showed affection, but he never seemed to make it a big deal. As if he wasn’t aware of how one finger on Simon’s palm affected him. Maybe he was. Maybe he just liked witnessing Simon’s silent freakouts.

Simon was having one of said silent freakouts. With his punishment over and him being a free man again, they celebrated with a movie night at his place. Only they left the living room with the movie half finished when it became clear that Simon’s parents weren’t about to leave them be. Simon was still pinching himself over the fact that no one had shouted some sort of joking but also not demand that they keep the door open.

The door wasn’t open. If he had a key he would’ve put it to good use. Knowing that no one was stupid enough to just barge in calmed him down, thought Bram’s hands all over him had the opposite effect.

Bram wasn’t being quiet today.

He was on top, straddling Simon’s hips in a way he never would’ve pegged as a Bram thing to do before he got to know him, but right now, when Bram was biting on his lower lips and toying with the hem of his shirt, Simon couldn’t think of anything more Bram like. It was both bold and timid. The hesitating touches on the bare skin of Simon’s lower belly. The way he refused to leave an inch of Simon’s mouth unkissed. It was all so Bram-like.

So Blue.

“Is this okay?” Bram asked, having finally left Simon’s slightly swelling lips to nibble at his neck.

Simon nodded, breathless in a way that he almost felt embarrassed over. He felt every single touch. Every movement and every breath. And he was certain he would die if this ended right now.

And that was when Bram’s brave side won and he stuck his hands up Simon’s shirt.

And now he was conflicted. Because while he didn’t want it to stop, he also desperately wanted it to stop.

Fuck.

“Are you okay?” Bram asked, always aware of when Simon’s mood changed.

“Yes, of course,” Simon said, a nervous smile finding his face automatically. “Please don’t stop.” But also kinda please do stop.

Bram narrowed his eyes at him. “I’m overstepping, aren’t I?”

“No, no! I’m just- well- you know.”

“Inexperienced?”

“Something like that.”

“You can say stop if you’re not ready for something, you know.”

Bram was stopping without him saying it, and Simon reckoned the mood was kind of ruined anyway.

“Sorry,” he said, sheepishly and sadly, but Bram just smiled.

“You’ve got nothing to feel sorry for. I should’ve asked.”

Simon didn’t say anything to that. Only opened his arms and let Bram settle in his embrace. And things were good.

* * *

 

Ever since that day Simon was sure the universe was out to get him. Bram with his quiet ways would touch him casually whenever he could. It was everything from two fingers on his knee to a whole palm on his back and eventually a mouth to his mouth behind closed doors. And Simon loved it. Loved being so loved that Bram couldn’t go a day without touching him. But he was suddenly faced with this newfound dilemma.

More often than not Bram’s touching tickled. Not enough to make him laugh. Hell, mostly it wasn’t even enough to make him squirm. But it tickled and he noticed it. He being Simon, that is. Bram didn’t seem to notice a thing.

They were on the couch that day, their English teacher going on and on about The Awakening, which was getting old, so Simon was zoning out. Even though they had more than enough copies he was still looking at Bram’s book, while Nick, who was sitting beside him, was doing the same with Abby’s. And it hit Simon that they were all that gross couple people both loved and hated. But really, who could blame him? Looking at Bram’s copy meant he could lean into him without making a big deal out of it, and have their hands tangle behind the book without anyone noticing, and have Bram’s other hand rest on his thigh without- wait, what was he saying?

The hand was tickling him. Of course it was. He knew Bram probably wasn’t aware of it, but he had this habit of moving his fingers around, drumming them and tracing the skin and what not. And even though Simon was wearing pants it felt as if Bram’s hand was touching his skin directly; every movement sending a ticklish shock through his leg.

It was strange. Unbearable. But Simon didn’t want it to stop.

He also really did want it to stop.

Strange.

Bram suddenly speaking almost made him jump, and he looked at him in bewilderment until he realized he was answering a question that their teacher had asked. At least one of them was listening.

Bram did this thing where he always had to do something with his hands when talking to people he wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable with, meaning he often did it when answering questions in class, so when he fell silent again his hand had moved and was instead gripping the edge of the book, freeing his other hand so that it could hold Simon’s more properly.

Simon didn’t protest.

“You want to come to my place? My parents are working late.”

“Sure. Is Nora gonna be home?”

“Not sure. I really can’t figure out her schedule.”

They went to Simon’s and Nora was not home, though unfortunately they couldn’t take advantage of the empty house in the way they wanted. Having spent so many afternoons together was starting to show in the form of piles of unfinished homework.

“Let’s work for a bit and then we can figure out something for dinner,” Simon said, dumping his books on the couch sadly.

“Sounds good. But can I ask for one thing before we start?”

“Sure?”

Bram’s question was silent, but his movements were bold when he leaned in to kiss him once. Freaking tease.

“Have I mentioned that I hate algebra?” Simon said an hour later. “Because I do. So much. Like, if algebra was on fire and I had a glass of water, I’d drink it. And if I wasn’t thirsty I’d drop the glass and let it go to waste.”

“Okay, I think someone is in need of a break.” Bram stood, leaving his books on the couch and reaching for Simon’s hand. “Put your notes away. We’re gonna eat.”

French toast. A weird attempt at a salad. Oreos for dessert. Simon had had worse meals. Bram was having one of those days where he was speaking a lot, and Simon was loving it. Loving that he was becoming so comfortable around him. He could seriously listen to Bram talk for hours.

But homework. After a while they couldn’t justify just sitting at the table any longer, and they returned to their books with dampened spirits. At least he was almost done with algebra.

“Hey, I don’t get this question,” Simon said, shoving a sheet of paper with questions for their latest English assignment into Bram’s face. “I’m supposed to do what with the what?”

Bram was smiling, though it slowly faded as he read through the question. “Right. I think you’re supposed to explain why-”

But Simon wasn’t listening, because Bram had snuck his arm around him when he’d leant closer and was currently drumming his fingers over his right side.

He’d never graduate, would he?

“Do you understand?” he asked, and Simon just nodded, knowing he’d just ask him again once he’d answered all the other questions.

Bram didn’t remove his hand when he returned to his own work.

And he didn’t stop drumming his fingers.

And Simon couldn’t take it much longer.

“Is everything okay?” Bram asked, because no amount of self control could’ve stopped him from slowly attempting to scoot away from the touch, which of course only followed him.

“I’m fine,” Simon choked out, and maybe he would’ve gotten away with it if it had been anyone else, but Bram was Bram and wouldn’t let it go.

“Simon, really.”

“It’s nothing.”

“ _Simon_.”

“Okay, okay,” Simon caved, knowing he was about to make an absolute fool out of himself. “Your hand is tickling me, that’s all.”

“Oh.” A beat and, “ _Oh_. Geez, sorry. I didn’t realize.” He withdrew his hand, and Simon could tell he was fighting to hold back an amused smile. “You should’ve told me.”

“It’s kinda embarrassing.”

“Not at all. Only human.”

“Does that mean you’re ticklish too?”

“No comments.”

Simon tried for a mischievous raise of his eyebrows, but the confession had left him flustered, and Bram’s growing smirk was making it worse. “I know what you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning a thing.”

“Uh huh.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“If you keep tickling me on accident I wouldn’t put it past you to do it on purpose.”

“Wait. Keep? Have I done it before?”

“Uh, sort of?”

“Really? How many times?”

“Like, every single time you’ve touched me this week?”

“Seriously?”

“I think it’s more of a psychological thing. Ever since the first time I think I’ve just been more aware of my… sensitivity.”

“The first time was when we were kissing in bed, wasn’t it?” Simon nodded. “I knew it.”

“You did?”

“I suspected it, but then I started thinking that maybe I had just crossed a line.”

“Well, you didn’t, actually.”

“That’s good to know.”

And then Bram pounced, which was both surprising and not at all.

“I’ve always wondered if you were ticklish,” Bram said, trapping Simon against the armrest.

“You have?” Simon asked, not sure what to do with his frantic heart and burning face.

“Uh huh. Ever since I heard you laugh at lunch once.”

“That was before you even knew I was Jacques.”

“Kinda creepy, I know.”

“No, not creepy. Kinda cute.”

“I bet you’re real cute when you laugh hysterically.”

Well, they were about to find out.

And the strangest part? Simon was looking forward to it.

* * *

 

“I cannot believe your parents walked in on that.”

“I know.”

“I can literally never show my face here again.”

Simon barked out a laugh. “You’re cute when you freak out.”

“Simon, they witnessed me pinning their son to the couch before I had even made you laugh. I can only guess what they assume was about to happen.”

“Hey, I’ll sit them down and explain it, okay? They know we’re not stupid enough to do things in the living room of all places, and around the time people start coming home too.”

Bram groaned, adorably flushed, and hid his face against Simon’s shoulder. “I didn’t even get to tickle you.”

“You’ll find other opportunities.”

Bram looked up at him, and something about his expression made Simon nervous. “You actually seemed sad when they barged in.”

Simon bit the inside of his cheek. “I was, uh, embarrassed?”

“No. It was something else. Almost like disappointment.” Bram sat up properly again, turning his body so that he was facing Simon. “Did you want me to tickle you?”

“Who  _wants_ to get tickled?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

Simon had two options. Lie or tell the truth. And Simon Spier wasn’t a liar. He only withheld the truth if possible, and in this situation it proved very much impossible.

He averted his gaze. “I do.”

“Sorry?”

“Want to get tickled. Apparently. I didn’t realize until you had me pinned.”

Bram hummed, as if sceptical, and Simon managed to panic about three times before he broke into a huge smile. “That might be the most endearing thing you’ve ever told me.”

“Oh, shut up.” Simon covered his face with his hands, but Bram removed them easily.

“Look at me.” Simon did, utterly aware of how red he’d gone. “You’re cute, and, if you’d let me, I would love to tickle you to pieces.”

“I cannot promise I won’t accidentally hit you in the face,” Simon said.

Bram’s grin turned mischievous. “I’ll have to make sure to pin you properly, then.”

And he did. Simon let him straddle his hips and grip both of his wrists in his hand and trap them above his head, leaving his body exposed and vulnerable. Simon suddenly felt so ticklish that he started laughing before Bram had even touched him.

“This is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen,” Bram said, and before Simon could beg him to please shut up he was thrown into a giggle fit as Bram’s fingers started dancing over his belly. Unbearably light. Incredibly skilled in what they were doing. Was there anything that boy couldn’t do?

“Oh, shit!” he found himself choking out through his laughter, partly worried of being heard by the others. Partly not caring at all. He was tugging at his hands, but they weren’t budging. Soccer had made Bram stronger than he looked, and Simon was secretly pleased.

“Is this okay?” Bram asked, always considerate, even when giving Simon what he’d apparently been craving.

“Yehehes!”

“Just making sure. Your laughter is adorable, by the way.”

Bram moved from his belly to his ribs, raking over them like a skater, making Simon realize that it didn’t matter where he tickled. It tickled just as much anyway.

Though after a while Simon was certain he was about to go insane, so he had to beg for mercy. Bram granted him his wishes without protest.

“How was it?” he asked, settling down beside him as Simon panted for air.

“Awful.”

“And?”

“Amazing.”

“Good.” Bram kissed his cheek, laughing when Simon moved into the touch automatically. “I had fun. If you let me I can definitely redo it.”

“Maybe another time.” Because as good as it felt Simon was now exhausted.

Bram nodded. “Another time.”

“You know, I used to think my favorite thing about you were your eyes. Now I think it’s your hands.”

Bram reached for his hand, but not before giving Simon’s belly another quick poke.

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [tumblr](http://nhasablog.tumblr.com).


End file.
